Ashes to Ashes fan fiction - Genie in a Bottle
by bevhardy
Summary: Alex has been sent back from 1983 to 1981 again and is now more confused than ever as her memories have become jumbled. She must figure out her purpose there quickly before time runs out. Gene isn't completely himself either. Perhaps because he is now hearing voices of his own.


**Chapter 1 - Bottle, Half Empty or Full?**

Alex was frustrated. Everyone was frustrated! This recent spate of burglaries on their own home turf was more than enough to throw the office into a state of male-ego-fueled fury. It was an insult to the unit, as Hunt had reminded her time and time again over the last few days. Or more accurately, it was an insult to his male pride that they had no solid lead whatsoever. And then yesterday he had suddenly come to the 'ingenious' conclusion that the kingpin was Roy Carver, a particularly nasty piece of work that Hunt had been trying to pin something on for months now. But Alex knew better; Carver was making his money out of highly organized drug rings. He'd progressed far from burglaries a long time ago, if that was ever his thing at all.

Now the office seemed to have been thrown into confusion between Hunt's insistence on investigating Carver and her attempts to discover the real culprits. As it was, neither of them were getting much accomplished and to make matters worse, Hunt had simply shut himself away in his office for the last hour, most probably sulking after their last shouting match. She reached out blindly to the mug of coffee on her desk and took a gulp, her mind still struggling to come up with even a half plausible suspect. She cringed, glancing down at the mug as she registered the tepid tasting liquid.

This was useless. Why couldn't she focus lately? Ever since they had opened this case, she had not felt her normal self to say the least. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what was wrong but something in the back of her head was ringing warning bells. Most worryingly were her bouts of amnesia. Well, perhaps amnesia was a bit strong; maybe absentmindedness was closer to the mark. She knew the most important things, like where she was, what her job was, who the people around her were and all of that, so she hadn't completely lost her mind! She even remembered her previous life in 2008. But it was the details that were missing, the day to day rituals and specifics of anytime previous to three days ago, when they had begun working on this case. Those details were extremely fuzzy. And she had been having visions too which made no sense to her, but at the same time, felt familiar, as if they had been part of a previous life or something. She had been seeing stars in her head, great constellations, and among them, the vision of a man with a disfigured face. How odd.

But anyway, since she couldn't for the life of her make any sense of all of that, she had pushed it to the back of her mind and thrown herself into this new case, or at least she was trying to. Gene had been his usual hindrance, rather than help.

She lifted her head and turned to glance into his office. Unfortunately, he was looking straight at her, probably gloating at the fact that she clearly hadn't found anything yet. Standing, he held up a file, pointing to it and mouthing, 'Carver' to her, before throwing it onto his desk and picking up another file. He repeated the process over and over, with file after file. Okay, okay, she got the message; Carver had a less than clean rap sheet. So what? He wasn't going to change her mind; it wasn't Carver they were after.

Alex swung her eyes away from the annoying sight of Gene and feigned intense interest in the notepad on her desk. She studied the list of names surrounded by a web of doodled drawings for a few minutes until Gene became bored and went back to sulking at his desk again. Right, that was it; she wasn't moving from that spot until she'd found at least one possible suspect. It wasn't exactly easy to concentrate in that office though, especially when Gene had given the rest of them virtually nothing to do. She sighed as her attention was distracted once again and drawn to Shaz and Chris, who had lost interest in finding a lead in this case sometime after midday and had now reverted to slightly cringe-worthy flirtation. Shaz was introducing Chris to the wonders of fragranced, fruit felt tip pens, and had invented a game out of making him guess the fruit fragrance from wafting the tip of the pens under his nose.

"Strawberry?" Chris guessed, after having taken a sniff and noticing the red casing of the pen.

She shook her head. "Nope. This is a hard one, Chris."

Ray chuckled, eavesdropping from his desk. He echoed her words, "This is a hard one," with a grin as he stood and approached them.

"Raspberry?" Chris tried once more.

"Guess again," Shaz replied.

"Cherry," Ray joined in.

"Wrong," Shaz responded.

Both Ray and Chris frowned with confusion.

"There isn't any other red fruit," Chris said.

"Cranberry." To her own consternation, Alex found herself joining in.

Chris didn't look any more enlightened. "What's that?"

"You know," Ray piped up, "like what you put on your Christmas dinner. That posh red sauce. Must be made from red fruit," he shrugged.

"Never seen them before. Where'd they come from anyway?" Chris asked.

"British Columbia mainly," Alex informed them.

"That explains it; I've never been to South America," Chris commented.

"No Chris…" Alex began, before giving up and shaking her head in disbelief.

"Well, you're all wrong actually," Shaz said smugly. "Says here on the packet, this pen is…" she narrowed her eyes as she read the name of the fruit. "Lin… Ling… lingonberry."

"What?"

All three of their heads shot to Shaz questioningly.

"Where'd you get them pens from, Shaz?" Chris asked.

"Local newsagents. Foreigners own it. Bought the last packet. They're all the craze these days; all the schoolkids are buying them," she explained.

"They must be from South America too," Chris concluded.

"Lingonberries are Scandinavian," Alex said, returning her attention to her pad and attempting to focus again on the case.

"Ahh," Chris responded with realization. "That's why they're red then. Since Dracula eats them," he laughed.

"For God sake," Alex snapped. "Scandinavian Chris, not Transylvanian! Now will you put the bloody pens away, Shaz? And then maybe, I know it's a strange concept for you lot, but maybe, I don't know, you could perhaps consider getting some work done!" she said with annoyance.

"Oooh," Ray taunted. "Painters in," he said to Chris under his breath.

With as much patience as she could muster, Alex attempted to ignore them and once again, concentrate on the case.

Chris and Ray both watched as Shaz stashed the pens in her desk drawer.

"That's all we've got time for," Ray said, leaning back against the desk with his arms crossed. "So it's "Goodnight" from me."

Chris joined Ray. "And it's "Goodnight" from him."

"Goodnight!" they said in unison, chuckling.

"Do you know what we're supposed to be doing?" Shaz whispered.

"You do Ron," Ray grinned.

"Ron, Ron, Ron" Chris joined in.

"You do Ron, Ron," Ray finished causing both himself and Chris to burst into loud laughter.

"Right, that's it!" Alex exploded, throwing her pen across the room and storming towards Gene's office.

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Gene was pondering the list in front of him. He had to get somewhere with this little lot and soon before Bolly Nickers came up with her own theory. She wasn't buying Carver as a suspect, and it was only a matter of time before she was going to go off on her own warpath, most likely dragging half of the team with her. She could be a persuasive little madam when she wanted to be. Why he wasn't going to just let her get on with it, he wasn't entirely sure, but he knew that he wasn't… something was stopping him. He'd always followed his gut instincts and his guts had been rumbling something rotten over the last few days…and it had nothing to do with last night's Vindaloo either! No, this was more than just a hunch; he had a very bad feeling about all of this… a _really_ bad feeling. Something big was going to go off, and he just couldn't ignore the feeling that it would all cave in on Bolls. She was in danger, and whether she knew it or not, everything was closing in on her.

So many things seemed to point to it: the recent break-ins moving in on Luigi's, the connection to the Prices who kept popping up time and time again, and more importantly – not that he really wanted to make too much of this but- more significantly, Sam bloody Tyler! Yes, Tyler in his head… day and night for the past three days! As if Bolly wasn't enough, now he had Tyler back, only this time it was from the grave. What the bloody hell was that all about? If he didn't know better, he'd think that he was turning as loopy as Madam Fruitcake out there. Maybe he needed to ease off the bottle tonight. Yeah, that must be it. Now… he glanced down at the list again and forced himself to focus on it.

Three semi's down Lime Lane, one down King Street, one offy, one Chinky takeaway, two newsagents and one very poorly ranked High Street chippy – second rate cod and frozen frankfurters from Bejam really didn't do it for Gene.

Well, they weren't exactly the crimes of the century but… they were getting closer and closer to Bolly's place... and more and more vicious. As were these bastard headaches of his! He rubbed his forehead vigorously as if to dispense of the pain. One glance at the office outside though and he could see another headache swiftly approaching.

"Gene, I demand some action on this case!" Alex shouted, slamming down the notepad she still had grasped in her hand onto his desk and leaning over it towards him challengingly.

His eyes widened. "Demand?" he said in disbelief, running his eyes up and down her body, taut with supressed energy. He could think of a few ways to expend that energy if it was action she wanted! Why was it that whenever they had these clashes, it gave him the biggest horn? Especially when she leant close to him, and even more especially when by doing so, her top gaped at him and he got an eyeful of her satin and lace encased cleavage. She was as hot as the devil's shoes when she got angry and all flustered like that. Her face and neck always flushed bright red with agitation and he never failed to be fascinated by watching the colour flood down her top. How far down did it go, he wondered? One day he'd find out.

"Don't you go stamping your spoilt, Gucci foot in my direction Bolly-kecks, or I'll put you over my knee! You could do with a good spanking."

Oh yeah, now that was an idea and a half. What a vision he had of that little scenario. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Do you know what's going on out there?" she asked, waving her hand in the general direction of the outer office, ignoring his comment. "Do you have any idea?"

He sighed; she was working herself up and that was never a good sign. "Go on; please do enlighten me."

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing! We've got Hale and Pace out there…"

Gene shook his head in confusion. "Hale and who?"

Alex paused for a second. "What year is this now? I forget."

Bloody hell, not again! Nutty nutcase is back.

"Must have been late 80's," she mumbled to herself. She clicked her fingers then in realisation and pointed at Gene. "The 'Two Ronnies'," she amended.

He frowned. "Is there a point to any of these ramblings?"

"Little and Large', 'Cannon and Ball', 'Laurel' and bloody 'Hardy'; those two out there," she pointed towards Chris and Ray, "playing the clowns…" She hesitated then, her own words ringing alarm bells in her head. Clowns? Why did that seem familiar?

"Drake?"

Gene brought her back to her train of thought. "…playing the clowns on police time…and Shaz… like some lovesick school girl. For God sake Gene, give them something to do!" she yelled with annoyance, waving her arms erratically in the air. "Together, they're a talented team, or they could be if you gave them half a chance! We're getting nowhere with this case. And in the meantime, someone's out there planning the next job. Gene," she appealed, "I'm telling you, if we don't put a stop to this, someone is going to end up dead."

He blinked a couple of times. "Blimey Bolls, you're beginning to sound like Gene Genie."

' _she's real…'_

The whisper came to Gene from nowhere, like it had before… along with a flash- so sudden- a flash of a familiar face: Sam Tyler's.

"I know she's bloody real! Tell me something I don't know!" Gene said, to the ceiling.

Christ almighty, and he was turning into Bolly!

It was then that it started happening to Alex. It was the sickest of feelings. Yes, she'd had 'episodes' many times before there, but this was horrifyingly different for some reason. For a start, she'd always dealt with her visions and voices before by just waiting for them to pass; they always had eventually. But at that moment, as the feelings swiftly began to build, and the pain in her head threatened to overwhelm her, she felt for certain that this time it wasn't going to end, not at all. In fact, she felt that there was no end… to anything! But then conversely, to her utter confusion, she felt that everything was indeed ending, right that very minute. God, the pain in her head was excruciating! What was causing it? Strangely, the noise was only a vague background sound at that point, like the hum of a generator starting up. The pain in her head seemed to have a life of its own though, determined to disarm her no matter what. And then the 'generator' joined in, the humming building and building, the sound of impending doom slowly but inevitably contracting to a terrifying singularity.

And as the room closed in on her, so the walls of her vision surrounded the hazy figure of Gene and shrank in on him, like a camera shutter, closing, closing. Soon Gene would be gone and there would be nothing.

Bells began ringing, announcing the urgency of time, clocks chiming, church bells booming out, voices shouting at her, warnings, fear, nothingness, she was losing control, she was losing everything! Not just 'things' or even 'people', everything! Everything she had ever known. She was going to be totally and utterly alone soon, lost in the darkness, confused, unable to breathe through her terror. She even felt _herself_ disappearing, slipping, falling, fading away. But worse than that- complete oblivion would have been a relief- no, she was still aware, just incapacitated and alone. Nobody would know where she was; there would be nobody to find her.

"Alex!" came a shout. She lifted her head towards the urgent noise, although she could see nothing save a pinpoint of light, and her head was too heavy to keep aloft. She felt a sharp pressure applied to her arm then. Her whole body jolted and she felt herself rising. "Alex!" Someone was reaching into her oblivion and pulling her back to reality. "Alex!" There it was again, the deep voice, full of emotion, anger, panic, frustration… life. Something had taken hold of her chin and yanked her head upwards again. She began to shake, or at least, she was being shook…violently.

"Alex!"

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and the shutter abruptly opened _, bam!_ And there she was, on the floor in front of Gene, grasping onto his legs after having stumbled towards him and sliding down his body.

Finally, she had come around! "Don't think that I'm not enjoying this, Drake," he said, reaching down for her arms and at last being able to lift her to her feet as her strength returned. "But can we save this for later when we're not on show?"

She followed Gene's line of sight and was hit by the images of frozen officers beyond the windows who had their full attention on herself and Gene, staring in anticipation of what was going to happen next in Gene's office. She groaned, holding her head and stumbling towards his desk. Taking refuge in its stability, she grasped the edge and drew in great gasps of air, attempting to regain control.

"Go home, Drake," Gene said, watching her.

Her gaze rose to meet his and she turned slowly, leaning backwards for support. He actually looked quite concerned. "I'm okay," she assured him. "I just felt a bit woozy."

"Woozy, shmoozy, I'm not having you passing out or chundering in my office. I'll get someone to drive you back," he insisted, heading towards the door.

"Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you? If I'm out of the way, you can go ahead with this absurd idea that Carver is your man."

Gene turned at the door. "Alex, go home!" he shouted.

"Okay, I'll go and lie down for a few hours, but Gene," she appealed, tilting her head to one side, "Please, promise me that you won't go ahead with this while I'm not here. I just want to do my job," she reasoned.

He tutted. He hated it when she looked at him like that, all puppy-dog eyed. "Alright, alright! Now get gone, will you? Before you fall to my knees again and find yourself doing a different kind of job!"

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Alex had mixed feelings about returning to the flat. On the one hand, she really could do with some time to recover from her horrifying incident, and her head was still pounding painfully. But then again, she was actually a little afraid that it might start all over again. Last time, Gene had been there to pull her back. What would become of her there without anyone around if it happened again?

Closing the front door, she stood for a moment in her apartment, listening for evidence of bells, or generators or voices. To her relief, all was silent. Shrugging off her jacket, she headed for the kitchen, took out a glass from the cupboard above the sink, filled it with water and reached for the kitchen drawer where she had found a box of aspirin a few weeks earlier. Riffling through the random objects in the drawer, she attempted to find the painkillers, now quite desperate to end the pounding in her head. She was sure they had been in there. After having no luck, she slammed the drawer shut and opened the one below, and then the one below that. Still nothing. Feeling that she could quite happily tip the contents of all the drawers onto the floor in a fit of temper, she kicked the bottom drawer hard, closing her eyes as the sharp pain in her toes shot through her.

Then, in the strangest of ways, out of nowhere, she suddenly felt complete peace wash over her. There was a warmth on her face, like the Torremolinos sun, calming and healing. Slowly, she opened her eyelids to see the bottom kitchen drawer shining with a light from within. Beams of sunlight were streaming from the cracks. Intrinsically, her hand was drawn towards the drawer and she watched in awe as, while opening it, clouds, blue birds and rainbows came floating out. She let out a small giggle at the absurdity of it, peering inside the drawer however, intrigued to see more. At the bottom, positioned on a soft, pillowy cloud, lay a small, white box. She reached for it, picked it up and opened it. Inside, on a silken cushion, there was a pink coloured pill. Weird, she didn't remember the aspirin appearing like that the last time. Or was it aspirin? She grinned. Who was she kidding? So, would she take it, or not? Oh, what the hell! None of this was real anyway. Picking up the pill with her thumb and forefinger, she threw it into her mouth, took a gulp of water and swallowed.

 ** _Okay, so just to let you know, this is about as weird as it will get. She doesn't disappear into some fantasy world or 'heaven' or anything like that. She will return to the office and back to being fairly normal, if not a little 'happier' for a while lol._**


End file.
